


sonder

by rosieeexox



Series: obscure sorrows [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, because of course its a coffee shop au, maybe the sexual kind, not the sexual kind, takes place in london but im american so you know how that goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:15:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4193454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosieeexox/pseuds/rosieeexox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sonder

**Author's Note:**

> so this is the first part of a new series I'm starting because I can't even read a post without thinking about h&l. there's an article on buzzfeed (http://www.buzzfeed.com/danieldalton/my-pain-has-a-name#.dlJ04VpGW) about words describing emotions you didn't know had a name. 
> 
> there's 23 words on the list so there will be as many as 23 works in this series. I'll update on that as soon as I know. ideally, I'd do all of them but who knows.
> 
> also, these are probably going to be short little one-shot type things because there's only so much angst and fluff I can endure ok I hope I don't disappoint!
> 
> title of the series is from the book/dictionary by john keonig where he lists all these words with their definitions.

It's hard to say when Louis decided to make time in his schedule for people watching. He's done it as long as he can remember. When he was seven and still tagged along with his mom to the grocery store he would watch the other people walking up and down the isles; some of them with their families, some of them by themselves. When he was twelve and just entering middle school he would watch the other students in the hallways; how they interacted with each other, with their teachers. When he was eighteen and went away to college he would watch the way people acted in class, at parties, in the library, out on the quad, and he wondered if anyone wondered about him. And now, here he is at the age of twenty-two, in a giant city, people watching.

The thing is, it's always amazed him how every single person he sees has their own life that he knows nothing about. Like, how when you take a road trip and drive through a town you know nothing about, you rarely ever think about the fact that there are people in that town that know every back road, every side street, every corner store. Everyone in each town you pass has a favorite spot and a million memories that come with it. Sometimes he plays this game with himself where he tries to guess what everyone's backstory is. Niall used to play with him when they were younger, but he stopped years ago. He's not interested in anything other than girls, fast food, and alcohol. Louis is interested in that stuff, too. Well, not the girls part, but everything else. It's just, he's interested in other things  _more._ Like, the old woman who comes into the coffee shop he works at. She comes in every Tuesday at noon and orders a vanilla latte and a blueberry muffin. She sits down in the same booth, and she always eats the muffin before she even takes a sip of her latte. Then, she takes the latte and leaves. Louis isn't even sure she drinks it. 

His mom always told him it was because he was so smart, that he always wanted to learn knew things. Louis knows that isn't it. His mom just tried to make him feel normal about his _condition_. But how could any normal person  _not_  be curious about it? How could any normal person walk from their apartment to the bus stop and not wonder about everyone else there, everyone else they've seen? Is the woman standing at the front of the bus not sitting because she has bad knees? Or is it because she's only on for a few stops? Or maybe she's a germaphobe and doesn't want to sit in a gross bus seat probably infested with hundreds of other peoples butt sweat. 

Sometimes it's exhausting to be so curious all the time, but sometimes he doesn't even know he's doing it. His boss, Maggie, isn't particularly fond of how often she finds Louis spacing out at work. Or, if he's not spacing out, he's asking probably too personal questions as he hands someone their coffee. He can't help it that so many interesting people come into the shop during his shift. It's part of the reason he moved to London, anyway. All of the people.

He's just about to close up when the chime above the door rings. _Damnit._ He thinks to himself. _The one day I don't lock the bloody door before I start cleaning._

"We're closed." Louis calls from behind the counter, not even sparing a look up.

"Right, sorry. I just need a bit of ice?" The voice sounds muffled and nasally, and he ends the statement like a question. Who even does that? Louis turns to find a very tall, very pretty boy holding a very large hand up to a very bloody nose.

"Oh my, are you alright?" Louis asks, already fishing an ice pack out of the freezer.

"M'fine. Just walked into a wall."

Louis laughs nervously. "That's not one of those lines is it?"

"Sorry?"

"That people in abusive relationships say. You know, like when they say they fell down the stairs but really their husband just had a bit too much to drink and didn't like dinner wasn't on the table yet. Or when-"

"M'not in an abusive relationship. Just very clumsy." Louis cocks his eyebrow. "I swear." The boy says, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, I believe you. How's your nose?"

"Hurts a bit. I'm kind of used to it, honestly. S'not broken though."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I've broken it before." The boy laughs.

And there it is again, that  _need_ to know. 

"I'm Louis." He blurts out.

"I'm Harry." He laughs again. It's softer this time, more nervous.

"Well Harry, you're welcomes to sit while I finish cleaning. Just don't bleed on anything."

"I actually should get going. Supposed to be meeting friends for drinks."

Louis feels disappointed, but he waves goodbye with a smile anyway. The need to know about Harry doesn't go away so he does what any normal person would do in his situation; he goes to bed and wills himself to dream about Harry, to dream a life up for Harry. 

He doesn't, though, and he feels agitated and restless the next day. He keeps his hands busy to try and distract his mind from focusing on Harry for too long. Until, of course, Harry walks into the coffee shop.

"Ah, broken nose boy." Louis says lightly, willing himself to stay calm.

"Not broken!" Harry informs him with a beaming smile.

"What can I get you today?" Louis asks, making sure to commit Harry's order to memory; and every one after.

And that's how it starts. Harry visits him every time he's at work, and they make plans to hangout when he's not. Harry always answers Louis' random outburst of questions with a laugh. "You're so weird, Lou." He'll say once Louis's chest stops burning from his need to know everything about the taller boy; after he's asked at least a dozen questions. Sometimes Harry asks him questions, too. They'll talk about their childhood and their family, their likes and dislikes, the moment they realized they were gay; well, pan in Harry's case.

They talk about everything, really, and it's so  _fulfilling_  to Louis; to look at Harry and realize that he knows almost everything about him. Harry is incredible, is the thing. Louis is pretty sure everyone who meets him wants to know everything about him. He's caring and compassionate and funny (sometimes) but he's also fiercely loyal to the people he loves. Sometimes they'll be walking down the street and Louis get struck by how great of a person Harry really is. He's never met anyone like him.

They're laying on the floor in Harry's flat one day playing video games when it happens.

"Why do you always ask me so many questions, Lou?"

 _And there it is_. Louis thinks as his blood runs cold. This is it, the moment Harry realizes how weird he is. After almost four months of friendship Louis is finally going to tell Harry about his condition. 

"It happened when I was about six." Louis says calmly, not taking his eyes off the screen. Harry doesn't say anything so he takes a deep breath and continues. "I was with my mom at the park and it just hit me. There I was, swinging on the swings, my favorite thing to do at the park; and I see this kid in the sandbox playing with some trucks. And I thought to myself 'Why isn't he swinging on the swings? Doesn't he know that the swings are the best part of the park?' So I asked my mom why he was playing with trucks instead of swinging and she said that some kids like swings and some kids like slides and some kids like trucks. And that's when I realized that every other kid in that park had their own life that was completely different than mine. Like, everyone that I pass on the street has a life as complex and crazy as mine and I know nothing about it."

"That's pretty big stuff for a six year old." Harry chuckles.

Louis sighs. Harry's taking it well, then. He's not running for the hills.

"So you ask me questions cause you wanna know how crazy and complex my life is?" Harry asks, his brows furrowed.

"Yeah. I mean, yeah." Louis replies nervously.

"Is it everyone? Do you just jump at other people on the street and ask them as many questions as you can before they run away?"

Louis laughs, loudly and unabashed. "Sometimes. But no, not really. I've never felt the need to know anyone the way I need to know you." He admits softly.

Somewhere during their conversation, one of them had paused the game. Louis looks up hesitantly to see Harry's playing with the rings on his fingers, blushing slightly. When Harry does finally look up, his eyes are shining. Louis feels that burn in his chest again, his need to know. He needs to know what Harry's lips feel like, what he tastes like, if he kisses soft and slow or rough and playful.

"What, uh, what else do you wanna know?" Harry asks softly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

"I want to know what your mouth tastes like." Eloquent. Straight to the point. There's a moment of hesitation and then he's being crushed under the weight of Harry's body, their mouths slipping together seamlessly. 

 _Soft and slow_. Louis thinks to himself, smiling through the kiss. 

A few days later they're cuddled up on Louis' couch, the final credits of Tarzan having just started rolling on screen. Harry turns to him slowly, a gleaming smile on his face. Before Louis can ask what he's smiling about, Harry mumbles something.

"What?" Louis asks, looking up from where he's tucked under Harry's arm.

"Sonder." Harry says again, still soft, like the word is a secret.

"Care to elaborate?"

"The realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own."

"Harry-" Louis is breathless.

"I looked it up, what you told me the other day. I looked it up and it's called sonder."

"Sonder." Louis says, trying the word out loud.

"Sonder." Harry repeats, matching Louis's tone.

Louis kisses him then, and for the first time since he was six years old, he feels normal.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos!!!


End file.
